


Twilight zone

by dorcas_gustine



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-11
Updated: 2009-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorcas_gustine/pseuds/dorcas_gustine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Daniel Jackson is giving him a hand job in an empty at the SGC, with only a door to separate them from the people walking outside.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Twilight zone

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by runriggers on lj. This was a little something I wrote during Season Nine, it has no specific time placement.

When Jackson slams him against a wall and roughly palms his crotch, it’s actually a surprise. He’s felt the tension between them, but he’s never thought it could be _sexual_. Still, Cameron’s hands are gripping his shoulder and Jackson has his face buried in his neck, panting meaningless words and trying to work his zipper open.

“Fuck, Jackson, fuck, wait.” Cameron gasps and pushes Jackson’s shoulders so that there’s actually some space between them.

Jackson’s face is flushed and his pupils are dilated, but his eyes are still focused. “You want me to stop?” he asks, his voice rough, his hand now trying to reach inside Cameron’s underwear. For a moment he can’t find his voice, because Jackson is _giving him a hand job in unoccupied quarters in the SGC_.

“You want me to stop?” Jackson asks again, squeezing him, this time.

Cameron squeaks and grabs his wrist, “No, I- I don’t-“

“Shut up, then.”

There’s a knee between his legs and he spreads them, accommodating Jackson and his hand. What the fuck are they doing? What the fuck?

“What the hell are we doing?” he says out loud.

Jackson doesn’t even falter in his movements, he just rasps against his ear, “If you don’t know by now…”

_Daniel Jackson is giving me a hand job_, Cameron thinks. _Daniel Jackson is giving me a hand job_, he thinks again, because he figures it’s worth repeating.

“Wonder how Rod Sterling would have started,” he says, instead, because this is Twilight Zone material for sure.

This time the hand on him stops and Jackson looks at him. “You are weird,” Jackson says and resumes.

By now Cameron is near and he moans.

“Shut up,” Jackson says and covers his mouth with his left hand. He’s looking at him by now and Cameron, now holding onto Jackson's left arm with both hands for dear life, has never been so turned on before. Daniel Jackson is giving him a hand job in an empty room at the SGC, with only a door to separate them from the people _walking outside_. Cameron comes, but his moan is suppressed by Jackson’s left palm.

Jackson wipes his hand on Cameron’s pants, but still keeps the hand on his mouth. When Jackson releases him he says the first thing that comes to his mind, “_Holy_ shit, man.”

Jackson is looking at him as if he hadn’t an erection poking Cameron’s thigh.

“Want me to take care of that?” Cameron asks, reaching, but Jackson stops him.

“No,” he says “What I want right now is to fuck you, but I’ve got neither time nor supplies.”

Cameron swallows audibly as he watches Jackson carefully adjusting himself then walking to the door. Suddenly, something occurs to him. “You dragged me in here,” he says “Out of the blue. Why?”

Jackson looks at him with that kind of expression that seems to imply a lot about your lack of intelligence. It’s an expression he often uses with Cameron. “Because I wanted to give you a hand job.”

Well, that’s logical at least. In a very warped kind of way.

“You don’t even _like_ me,” Cameron says.

“I don’t have to like you to find you hot,” Jackson says “I don’t have to like you to fuck you.”

Cameron kinds of gets his point, but the door slamming after Jackson still leaves him with a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.


End file.
